


Tend My Wounds, Mend My Heart

by janewhitaker



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janewhitaker/pseuds/janewhitaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Oliver patched Barry up and one time Barry patched Oliver up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tend My Wounds, Mend My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something different with this one, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think!

The first time Oliver patches Barry up is the afternoon when Oliver teaches Barry about being aware of your surroundings. He shoots him in the back with two arrows to teach him a lesson. After getting the message across, he takes him inside the abandoned shed by the field and takes care of the wounds he put there himself. Barry complains about how he ruined his favorite coat, and Oliver smiles an unseen smile from behind him. His fingers brush Barry’s skin and his breath tickles his neck, sending a shiver down the younger boy’s spine. Oliver barely thinks about it, blaming it on the fact that it’s cold out, and hands Barry his shirt back once he’s finished.

 

The second time Oliver patches Barry up is after their fight while Barry is under the effects of the Rainbow Raider. Once Caitlin gets Barry back to normal using the colored lights, Oliver wraps his arm around Barry’s waist and helps him limp to his motorcycle. They ride back to S.T.A.R. labs together, Barry’s arms around Oliver’s waist. Back at the lab Oliver brushes Caitlin off and helps Barry himself. He feels the wounds he put there are his responsibility to take care of. Even though Barry regenerates quickly, he cleans the cuts and wipes the blood from his skin. Barry doesn’t say anything, just watches Oliver’s fingers work with practiced ease. Once he’s finished Barry thanks him, then apologizes again. Oliver just pats his shoulder, hands him sweater and tells him it’s fine, then leaves. On his way home, his back feels cold without Barry pressed against it.

 

The third time Oliver patches Barry up is after he challenged him to a fight. No one else is there, just the two of them. Barry lets Oliver win, because he likes the way it makes him smile. It’s the way Oliver rarely smiles, his lips pulled into a grin, dimples in his cheeks and crinkles by his eyes. When just for a moment, he doesn’t think about everything that’s going on outside of that abandoned warehouse. It’s just the two of them, having harmless fun.

Oliver knows. He knows his victory isn’t fair, that the fight was never fair because Barry intended to lose from the very beginning. He doesn’t mention it. Just teases Barry about his defeat while he tends his wounds. As he works, a comfortable silence falls over them. In the silence, Oliver allows his mind to wander. His fingers work on autopilot, the movements embedded in his muscle memory. He thinks about what it would be like to mark Barry not with arrows and punches and pain, but using his lips and fingers and affection. He thinks about the way he would leave a mark only to see it fade again within seconds thanks to Barry’s powers. The way he could mark him, over and over again, and no one would ever know. It would be their secret, just like that day was.

 

The fourth time Oliver patches Barry up is when he’s in town, after they defeat a meta together. Caitlin rushes to Barry’s aid when they return to S.T.A.R. labs, but Oliver tells her he’s got it. Caitlin is offended at first, until a whispered ‘dude’ and a pointed look in the direction of the heroes from Cisco brings her to realization. She watches them through the glass, the way Oliver takes care of Barry and the way Barry lets him. There’s always some struggling or ‘I’m fine’ involved when she does it. With a surprisingly gentle touch and the utmost concentration, Oliver cleans the cuts on Barry’s face. Barry watches the older man’s face intently until Oliver suddenly meets his gaze. A flustered chuckle passes his lips and he ducks his head. He doesn’t notice Oliver’s fond smile or the way his fingers linger on his face for a brief moment.

 

The fifth time Barry is worse off than a few cuts and bruises. In attempt to defeat another meta he gets badly beaten and knocked unconscious. Oliver isn’t there when it happens, but he visits as soon as he hears. He helps Caitlin change bandages and assists however he can to nurse Barry back to health. When there’s nothing to do, he just sits at the side of Barry’s bed and watches him, how peaceful he looks. Caitlin lets him. Neither she nor Cisco dare to ask any questions, but Oliver doesn’t miss the looks they give each other. His fingers itch to reach out and take Barry’s hand, but he doesn’t. When Barry wakes up a few days later, Oliver isn’t there.

 

Oliver rarely gets badly hurt. At least not badly enough to feel the need to be patched up, let alone enough to let someone else do it. There are the rare instances he’s knocked unconscious and doesn’t have a choice, like when he first met Barry and he saved his life with the rat poison. But this time, he’s conscious. He can still stand on his own two feet. His injuries aren’t that bad. He has no real reason to let Barry take off his jacket so he can take a closer look, patch him up as necessary, but he does so with very little protest. Maybe it’s because he longs to be cared for for once. Maybe it’s because it’s Barry.

Barry’s fingers brush his skin as he slides the sleeves down his arm. Oliver shivers. Barry doesn’t realize was he’s doing, that he’s effectively _undressing_ Oliver, despite it being under different circumstances than he’s imagined, until he does. He can feel a blush rising to his cheeks, swiftly moving to stand behind Oliver so he doesn’t notice. Oliver notices. He smiles. Barry doesn’t notice, already busy collecting what he needs to aid Oliver.

He starts on Oliver’s back, absently dabbing the skin with a wet cloth to clean it and make it suppler while his eyes wander. He’s only ever caught brief glimpses of Oliver’s torso. He’s never been able to really look, to trace his scars wit his gaze, wonder about the dragon tattoo on his shoulder. He knows he got them on the island. He also knows better than to ask about them.

Barry wishes he could touch them, trace the lines with his fingers, _kiss_ them, follow the defined trails with his lips – He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Oliver hisses. He quickly pulls his hand back and apologizes. He finishes Oliver’s back, then gets a clean cloth and moves to his front. He can feel Oliver’s gaze on him as he works. It’s not intimidating, like it once had been, just intrigued. Barry’s gentle touches put Oliver at ease, his breathing calm and even despite his heartbeat being slightly above average.

When Barry looks up and meets Oliver’s gaze, neither of them look away. They stare at each other for a moment, until Barry takes a sharp breath and moves away to get the bandage and sterile cloths. He instructs Oliver to hold the cloths in place until he can trap them under the bandage, and Oliver wordlessly obeys. Barry wraps the bandage around him as needed, his arms circling his waist every time he has to go around. He tries to stay focused on the task at hand, but Oliver is staring again. Suddenly, he hears a whisper of his name and feels a hand brushing his cheek, forcing him to look up.

Oliver is looking at him, but in a way Barry has never seen him look before. It’s a look so pure and intent, it takes Barry’s breath away. Before he can fully process what’s happening, Oliver’s fingers tilt his chin up and his hand settles on his cheek as he leans in and kisses him. For a split second Barry stands there frozen in time, the bandage in his hand falling to the floor. Then he’s kissing back, latching onto Oliver, his hands on his neck, pulling him down so he can deepen the kiss. Oliver’s hands drop down to Barry’s waist, pulling him closer. Barry presses himself up against Oliver with no regard for the injuries he was taking care of not even a minute ago whatsoever. Oliver doesn’t even feel it, his entire body consumed by Barry.

They rest their foreheads together as they part. Barry lets out a breathless laugh. He looks down, letting his hand slide lower to rest where Oliver’s Bratva tattoo is, his fingers caressing the inked skin. He knows what it is. He’s seen it on bodies before. _Dead_ bodies. But Oliver’s body is very much alive, and very much right there, his chest rising and falling in time with his breathing right under the palm of Barry’s hand. He pulls back enough to be able to look up to Oliver, meeting his gaze. A sense of worry plays on Oliver’s face, as if he expects Barry to say ‘we shouldn’t’ or ‘this isn’t a good idea’ and then leave.

 

“I didn’t know you were a member of the Russian mob,” Barry says.

 

Oliver lets out a wholehearted laugh, the worry that had been there just a moment ago gone. “Former member, probably,” He says, smiling into it when Barry pulls him down for another kiss.


End file.
